


Quack

by Entropy House (AnonEhouse)



Category: Drake's Venture (1980)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Crack, Humor, M/M, Memory Loss, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-15 23:46:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Entropy%20House
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DV fandom does a LOT of reincarnation/preincarnation fic. Sometimes they both remember who they are. Sometimes only one remembers. In this story, Thomas works to bring back Francis's memory of their past life. And hopes Francis doesn't kill him again. That really spoils your day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quack

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

"That is ridiculous and undignified, and I refuse to do it."

"Yes, I see." Dr. Thomas Qualm crossed his legs to provide a support for his notepad and took some shorthand squiggles.

F.D. Astor shifted uncomfortably on the very comfortable chair the doctor had provided. "Really, doctor, this is all irrelevant-- all this talk about my early toilet-training-and I'm sure my childhood nursemaid did a fine job or she would have been let go-and whether or not I love my mother and hate my father..."

"Or the other way around," Dr. Qualm murmured.

"What?"

The doctor shook his head. "Mr. Astor, you came to me with a problem, as you would bring a failing auto to a mechanic. However, you would not dispute the mechanic's methods and insist it was nonsense to take the vehicle for a test drive."

"I've patiently answered your absurd questions." F.D. sat up and ran both hands through his rumpled ginger hair, and then reached for his hat. "But I am a busy businessman..."

"One who sees his profits diminishing due to lapses in judgment when dealing with attractive young men."

F.D. flushed bright red. "Sir, how dare you!"

Dr. Qualm sighed and folded up his notepad. "Since the publication of Freud's analysis of the Schreber case psychoanalysts have accepted the theory that there is a close connection between latent homosexuality and the paranoid psychoses. I do not, however, subscribe to this hypothesis."

F.D. got up and punched Dr. Qualm in the mouth, knocking him off his chair and to the floor before stalking out. After a few minutes, Dr. Qualm stirred and got to his feet. He inspected himself in the mirror of the lavatory adjoining, then washed the blood out of his beard before telling his secretary to cancel the rest of his appointments for the day.

@^@

Dr. Qualm looked up from his notes. "Good afternoon, Mr. Astor." His speech was slightly unclear, due to the swelling of his upper lip. His eyes were perfectly calm. 

F.D. strode into the room and put his fists on the doctor's desk. "If you're expecting an apology, you'll have a good long wait."

The doctor shook his head. "If one wishes duck soup, first one must catch the duck."

In the process of lowering himself into the comfortable chair, F.D. paused. "You'll restrict yourself to American when talking to me. I don't care for any of your European nonsense."

Dr. Qualm inclined his head in what might be taken for agreement and took the seat near F.D.'s. "Would you mind telling me why you chose to return, Mr. Astor?"

"I've already spent a lot of time and money on you. I want some return on my investment."

"Ah, well, if you will consider this in the light of a long-term lease, perhaps that will help." The doctor stood and took off his jacket, neatly hanging it in a closet.

"Why did you do that?" F.D. stared at the doctor's shirt. It was gleaming white and his collar and cuffs crisp and pristine.

"To prove a point to you, Mr. Astor. Search your emotions. What did you feel when you saw me beginning to disrobe?"

F.D. growled something inarticulate.

Dr. Qualm put his notepad down on the carpet (a fine Persian, proving that the good doctor was far from bankrupt). "If it will make you more comfortable, I will desist from taking notes."

"You'll still remember what I say!"

"Really, Mr. Astor, I cannot cut off my head and still be of service to you. Choose which is more important, your secrecy, or your sanity. I can only preserve one." 

"You're asking for another punch in the mouth, you little faggoty dago!" F.D. leapt to his feet and glowered over the other man.

The doctor's dark eyes glittered. "A nerve has been struck. When did you first discover your antipathy to Italianate men?"

F.D. knocked Dr. Qualm to the carpet and straddled him, both hands around the doctor's throat. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP, you traitor!" He banged Dr. Qualm's head on the carpet, then suddenly looked down at the man's closed eyes, black eyelashes startling against the man's pale skin, and he released him, jumping back. "God, no!"

He grabbed the vase of carnations from the doctor's desk, throwing the flowers to the floor and then dumped the water over the doctor. Dr. Qualm lurched up, sputtering and gasping, soaked to the waist. His shirt turned transparent and molded itself around his nipples; his beard straggled like seaweed, and he choked and sneezed. Bit of flower petals and leaves clung to him.

F.D. pulled him into a sitting position and pounded on his back. After a few whacks, the doctor was breathing more regularly, but shivering all over. "I... detest... cold water," Dr. Qualm announced.

"I don't know what came over me." F.D. was rubbing the doctor's back.

"Flashback. Reversion." Dr. Qualm coughed. "Previous life..."

F.D. stared at the doctor. "What? You believe in that rubbish? I'm Frederick Delano Astor and I've never been anyone else. I can't believe I've spent so much money on a quack."

Dr. Qualm rose to his feet with dignity. "My diplomas are on the wall, sir. Including one from Heidelberg, where I acquired a Schmiss that unfortunately healed too well, else you might have been more wary of insulting me!" His hand lashed out and struck F.D. across the cheek. "Sir! I challenge you to a duel of honor!"

F.D.'s jaw dropped. "You really are living in the past. Americans go to court and settle things with lawyers!"

The doctor looked at F.D. with scorn. "Coward. You fear my blade."

"I'm not afraid of anyone or anything!" F.D. tore off his jacket and shirt. "I'll fight you here and now, hand to hand!"

"Considering the height and weight advantage you have over me, I can see why you do not fear it!"

"I don't know the first thing about swords, damn you, you...." F.D. sputtered incoherently. "Name your poison! Anything where we'd have an equal chance!"

Suddenly the doctor smiled brilliantly, despite his swollen lip. "Are you brave enough to do as I requested yesterday?"

"If you're game, I am!" 

"Very well. Follow me." 

F.D. snarled and followed the doctor into the lavatory. It was outrageously large for an office, but since the doctor worked out of his home, it was perhaps not unreasonable for him to possess a bathtub. But what a tub! The room must have been built around it. He stripped to the skin while Dr. Qualm filled the tub, and poured in, of all things, lumps of dirty salt.

Gritting his teeth, F.D. got into the hot water and waited while the doctor stripped and joined him.

"There! We're in the bath together, and what does that prove! Your idea about me being one of them... or one of _you_ is absolute hogwash!" F.D.'s only physical reaction was a pinking of his skin caused by the heat. The doctor, on the other hand, was visibly aroused, although he made no move to touch F.D.

"Ah, but there is one more component to my request!" The doctor leaned out of the tub to rummage in a small chest set on the floor. Even more out of place than the tub, it was a brass-bound sea chest.

"Rubber ducks! What nonsense!"

"Not quite." The doctor extracted two small objects from the chest and set them afloat on the water.

F.D. stared down at the bath toys, and his face went pale. He picked one up. "Pelicans...the Pelican..." He looked up. "Thomas?"

"Yes." Thomas's swollen lips curved into a smile. "Do you remember now?"

Francis Drake nodded. "But I'm still not going to take you."

Thomas closed his eyes and bent his head in defeat. Francis reached out and stroked the back of Thomas's neck. Thomas shivered despite the warm water. Francis grinned. "Not until you've taken me first." His grip tightened on the rubber pelican, and it squeaked in delight.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2008 DV ficathon. My prompt was :Francis and Thomas and rubber ducks. Quack, quack!


End file.
